Return to Rapture
by MelShep
Summary: Woken by violent nightmares almost every night, Lizzie can't shake the feeling that there's something in her past trying to catch up with her. She lives alone by the beach, repeatedly drawing the same lighthouse from her dreams, when her world is turned upside-down: her niece is kidnapped. Now Lizzie must confront her past, and travel to a place she doesn't remember, to rescue her.


**Hello, this is my first Bioshock fanfic, so I really hope you enjoy it! Like my other stories it will hopefully be pretty long.**

** I won't tell you too much about the plot, I think it's much better to just read it and find out from there, all that I will say is that while I stay pretty true to the Bioshock 1&2 stories, I like to change things every now and again to make my story unique. I've also changed the time frame a little (e.g, there is a 15 year gap between the events of Bioshock 1 and those of my story), to make my plot work a bit better. **

**Anyway, here's hoping you like it!**

**Mel**

* * *

_It was pitch black, but that didn't matter. She had been this way hundreds of times, and she didn't need to see to know when to turn left, when to duck her head, when to avoid the crack in the floor that would scrape her knees if she wasn't careful. _

_There was the light. She was close. He would be waiting for her. _

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

_She reached the light, but it was not the kind hand she expected, but cruel sharp fingers, that reached out for her._

_She was screaming._

_Screaming._

Screaming.

Lizzie woke with a start, clasping her hands to her mouth to try and silence herself. It was too late, she could hear the sound of crying from the next room. She had woken the baby. A pang of guilt washed over her: it wouldn't be the first time she had woken her sister's baby this way. With a sigh, she slowly swung her legs out of bed, and got to her feet. She quickly removed her t-shirt (drenched in sweat like it always was when she woke like this), and swapped it for another, before heading out of the room. Alice's bedroom was next door, and luckily for Lizzie, her sister slept like the dead. The crying baby had not roused her yet, and Lizzie scooped little Toby from the crib and took him into the living room: murmuring reassurances as she did.

Once he had settled, and Lizzie was comfortable in the old arm chair in the corner, she tried to remember the dream, but it was no good: like trying to catch water as it dribbled through her fingers. All she knew was that it was the same as all the others. The dream was about the same place, the dark place. She dreamt of it almost every night, and as she got older, she became more and more certain that it was somewhere she had been before. But where? According to her father, she had never left their little seaside town. But then why did the place from her dreams feel so real? Sometimes she could really see it, and she tried to piece it together when she woke up, but all she ever got were fragments: the memory of greenish light, ornate furniture, dancing, music, violence. She could never really tell what she had actually dreamed, and what she was embellishing when she woke.

* * *

She became aware that she was being watched before she heard or saw anything. Lizzie had always had keen senses: little noises, tiny movements, even changes in the air seemed to alert her before anyone else. She looked up and saw her niece, Emily. Emily was five, and her long brown hair was in its usual trademark plaits. "I couldn't sleep," Emily whispered, clearly not wanting to wake Toby, who had finally drifted off again.

"Me neither," Lizzie replied.

"You had the dreams again." It wasn't really a question, Lizzie doubted anyone could've heard her screams and assumed she was dreaming of something pleasant. She simply nodded.

"You've been having them more," Emily continued. Lizzie contemplated this for a moment. The little girl had a point: she was waking up like this almost every night these days. She didn't say anything though, these were not the kinds of dreams she wanted to trouble a child with. Instead, she changed the subject. "Why can't you sleep?" She asked.

Emily shrugged. "Funny noises outside."

Lizzie smiled, "That happens when you live on the beach: birds, boats, waves, you get used to it." Alice and her children were only visiting for the summer, they had not had the time to get acclimatised to this place yet. To Lizzie, the noises were as normal to her as the sound of her own breathing.

"No, not just that," Emily continued. "Talking, whispering. I heard my name. And yours."

That gave Lizzie pause, but she shook it off. "You were probably dreaming, or it was just the sound of the ocean, we're a long way away from any people here."

Emily didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue. "Come on," Lizzie said, getting to her feet. "I'll put Toby in bed, then I'll tuck you in."

Emily's room was actually Lizzie's studio: she was a painter. Lizzie's small beach house was only set on one floor, but nonetheless she always made room for her sisters when they visited. Her studio had just enough room in there for a single bed, and for a few of Emily's toys. Lizzie picked up one now: a particularly grumpy looking teddy bear, and put it into bed beside her niece. "What's his name?" She asked absentmindedly as she tucked Emily in.

"Benji."

"That's a nice name."

"Did you have a bear when you were a little girl Aunt Lizzie?"

"I had a doll."

"What was her name?"

Lizzie didn't know. In fact, she had no idea where that last piece of information had come from: she couldn't remember ever owning a doll. She had bears, not dolls.

"Lucy," she lied, turning from the bed. "Goodnight Emily."

She shut the door, never questioning that the movement of the waves against the shore was the only cause of the whispering she heard.

* * *

"You look deep in thought."

Lizzie looked up from her sketchbook, shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight, her sister was standing on the sand next to her, baby Toby on her hip. "Mind if I join you?" She asked, and Lizzie shook her head.

Alice sat beside her, putting the baby onto the sand where he cooed happily, watching the waves gently lapping the shore only a few feet from the three of them. "That's beautiful," her sister said quietly, nodding at the picture Lizzie was drawing. A lighthouse, alone on a rock in the middle of the ocean. Lizzie shook her head, "It's still not right."

"What's wrong with it?"

Lizzie shrugged, "It just doesn't feel right, something is off."

Her sister looked confused, but didn't question it further. "Emily said you had the dream again."

"Dreams," Lizzie corrected. "They're always different….but the same." She sighed, "It's complicated."

"Can I help?" Alice asked.

Lizzie turned to her sister, who never seemed troubled by anything. She had not always lived her life in the way others expected: having Emily when she was barely more than a child herself, dropping out of school to pursue a moderately successful music career, then giving it all up when she met another woman who made her feel truly happy. Lizzie, in comparison, had struggled through school, struggled to make friends, and only really felt happy when she was alone and painting: with the exception of visits from her sisters or father. Their father had always been Lizzie's rock: never judging any of his daughters for the choices they made, only asking that they spend their lives doing whatever made them happiest.

She wished he was here right now, he would be the best person to talk to about these dreams. Could she really burden Alice with this? Especially when she didn't even know what this was?

"I don't know…"she began. "It's just that recently…I keep dreaming of this place. And the more I dream of it, the more I'm sure I've been there before."

Alice didn't interrupt, so Lizzie continued. "When I'm there, I feel happy, I feel safe….but there's this other feeling: like it's an illusion, like there are dangers around me that I can't even imagine."

"You think it means something?" Alice asked quietly.

Lizzie shrugged, "Maybe, but I can't even come close to figuring out what. I think it's something to do with when we were kids."

That did it, everything about Alice seemed to close off at that moment. "Well then it's not something you should think about then," she said hurriedly.

"Don't you ever wonder-"

"No," Alice interrupted. "I don't wonder, and neither should you. Whatever happened in the past is over now, and it's not healthy to think about it." She seemed to calm a little, because when she next spoke her voice was softer. "Come on, let's have some tea."

* * *

That was the end of the matter, Lizzie didn't bring up her dreams again for the remainder of her sister's stay, and Alice didn't ask. Lizzie knew that anything to do with their childhood was off limits, and it had been pointless bringing it up. All Lizzie could remember from her youth was being adopted by their father. He had taken her and her sisters to this town, where they had experienced a wonderful, happy childhood. It was only when she got older that she and the others began to ask questions, and their father had told them that they had experienced a very unhappy childhood before he found them. Any mention of what they had been through seemed to bring him such pain that the girls stopped asking: realising that whatever it was must've been truly horrible.

For a time, Lizzie had not worried about what was in the past. But now she was beginning to feel like her mind was trying to open those doors, and a very large part of her wanted to let it.

* * *

"_In the House of upside-down, _

_Cellars top floor, Attic's ground,_

_In the House of upside-down, _

_Laughing cries and smiles frown,_

_In the House of upside-down,_

_Found is lost and lost is found."_

_That song, where did she learn it? _

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

_He was waiting, time to work._

* * *

Screaming, but not in the dream, this was real.

Lizzie jumped out of bed and ran towards the noise. Her sister was in Emily's room.

"What is it?!" Lizzie asked, but Alice was hysterical, pointing at the bed. Lizzie followed her gaze, the covers had been thrown off and the bed was empty.

"Where is she?" Lizzie asked.

"I don't know!" Alice cried. "I heard a noise, like a singing, it woke me up….Then a scream….Lizzie, it was horrible, like an animal. I came in here and…and….where's my little girl?!"

Lizzie ran around the room, checking under the bed, in the wardrobe, anywhere a little girl might hide. Then she realised something: the window was wide open. She leaned out, footprints, small footprints, led away from the ground below.

Lizzie grabbed her flashlight and ran from the house, following the footprints. It looked like Emily was walking alone, where was she going? She saw something up ahead, and quickened her pace.

Benji, Emily's bear was in the sand. "Emily!" Lizzie cried out.

Nothing.

The footprints continued to the water's edge. _She couldn't…She wouldn't._ Emily was smart, she wouldn't go swimming at night alone.

But she wasn't alone.

Lizzie saw them now, another pair of footprints, adult footprints. They were facing the other way, as if the person had come from the water. But who?

Alice was coming, running and stumbling across the wet sand. "Where is she?!" Her sister sobbed, holding Toby close to her chest.

Lizzie couldn't answer, she just shook her head.

"You have to find her!" Alice cried, looking out at the ocean.

"I….where…." Lizzie was lost for words.

"The lighthouse! You have to find the lighthouse!"

Lizzie turned to her sister, what was she talking about?

"From your pictures," Alice continued, speaking so quickly that Lizzie struggled to keep up. "The lighthouse you keep drawing, they'll take her there. That's how you get down. That's how you get there!"

"Where?!" Lizzie asked, struggling to make sense of what she was saying.

"The city! The city where we were! They'll take Emily to Rapture!"


End file.
